The Thing I'll Never Say
by Onyxx-09
Summary: Peter Pan is heartless, merciless & wrathful. But he hasn't always been, sort of. There is a reason why he turned dark & kidnapped Henry: it was all for his fierce & bold Neverland princess. But just one problem, & it's not the #SaveHenry team. This is the story of the first & perhaps only girl Pan let roam free on Neverland. More inside. Warning: language; heavy smut in chapter 6.
1. A Grave for Hummingbirds

**EDIT: this first started out as a ****one-shot and a additional short chapter but I decided to make it a multi-chapter story. I hope you all like it and _please_ tell me what you think and review. I'm dying here!**

**More Summary:**

_In the town of "Storybrooke," Emma Swan only came for her son Henry, who she had given up for adoption when she was eighteen. She didn't expect to find that all the stories, fantasies and fables she was told growing up were true, living and breathing. The residents of Storybrooke are living proof of that._

_Jumping in and following the third season, "The Thing I'll Never Say" is a story of one of Faerie Tales' most infamous character. Everyone knows that Pan is a heartless demon, merciless, vengeful and wrathful, corrupting every soul that comes in contact with him. But this man-child has a backstory that none of the #SaveHenry team would have ever imagined. Well, make that HER backstory—the proud, bold and fierce Princess of Neverland; of the all the children that Pan brought to Neverland, there was one girl whom he kept under lock and key. She was the only one he had ever allowed to stay and roam free; the one person who can go toe-to-toe with him and walk away still breathing. She is the reason Pan turned dark and why he is so determined to gain the heart of the truest believer. But there is one problem that pecks at him like a pest, and it has nothing to do with the rest of Henry's family arriving to Neverland._

**_"I will be yours in times of plenty and in times of want, in times of sickness and in times of health, in times of joy and in times of sorrow, in times of failure and in times of triumph. I promise to cherish and respect you, to care and protect you, to comfort and encourage you, and stay with you, for all eternity."_**

_When those words were spoken, no one expected them to be taken literally. Now, Emma, Hook, Regina, Neal, Rumple, and all of Storybrooke might be faced with a challenge that would put them all to the test. This girl could be the worm in the system that helps Pan finally win victory or be his ultimate downfall._

_This is a story of love, hate, gain, and loss; of unrequited love and a love that is a sympathized attachment to one's captor; of a son's grief and a father's cowardice; of an innocent girl's trust lost to a boy's devious lies. This story centers around a boy who could fly and a chief's daughter. Of how Felix got the scar on his face, why Wendy was trapped in the cage for years, how Baelfire escaped Neverland. This is a story of believing and not-believing; how did the boy who refused to grow up become so dark and malice?, to murder an entire people, wreak havoc and cause fear across realms, and tear countless families apart, all while making a legend for himself. How did this man finally lose his innocence, ironically, in the body of a young boy? If you travel past the Willow Forest north of the Nevermountains and not too far from the northwest shore, if you follow the sounds of the drumbeats, there you will find the Piccaninny tribe, and there will be a girl with looks of beauty as a flower and "Tiger" in her name. And she will tell you everything._

* * *

**K. I had to get this out of my system. this is a sort of rough draft so beware errors and mistakes, please tell me if there are any that I missed or even any thoughts at all.**

**Homework you say? I've never heard such a thing...**

* * *

She was beautiful, there was no denying that. Strong willed, proud, and daring, she was a perfect match for him. And she definitely lived up to her name, he had thought.

_He ran a hand thru her hair, lifting the dark strands closer towards him, marveling at its silky texture. Her eyes that were cast downward fluttered to look up at him. Their gazes met and he leant down to kiss the lock of hair between his fingers._

Peter had stepped away from camp, leaving Felix, his second in command, in charge for a few hours and to keep an eye on Henry. Now, he wondered aimlessly around the island.

He kicked at a random rock in his path. Then he tore at overhanging branches, his magic making the branches disintegrate in his hands almost immediately. Soon he was doubling over, his fingers digging into his scalp, and tearing at his hair. His back arched as he howled into the night like an animal.

Any greenery that was too close wilted and crumpled in seconds. Scorch marks were left under his footsteps.

It's been years, centuries to be exact, since he's seen her. It's been decades since that war as well.

This was the day he dreaded most. Even though he didn't own a calendar, it was as if he just _knew_ every year, knew this day.

_She smiled at him, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He returned it but only as an amused grin; she was never able to hide whenever that red hue on her face. The bonfire licked the night air, its shadows and warm color of the flame, making her appear even more magical._

He was surprised that he still felt this way, that he still felt this...this...anger? Frustration? ...He was definitely distraught.

He was surprised he still remembered her.

_It was her father's idea. As chief, he had been prepared to give his only daughter's hand in marriage, not wanting her to rule alone; saw that he had been the right fit for the position and had been first choice. The problem was, she and Peter had no intentions of ruling a people, let alone an entire tribe. They didn't want such responsibilities; they didn't want to grow up._

_"I'm sorry about my father," she had said, "he can be a bit..."_

_"Oh it's alright. I don't think much of it," Peter shrugged. They had been walking thru the forest after the celebration until coming to a waterfall where they were now, sitting on a large boulder near its shore._

_Peter grinned. "But do you really think that I'd be chief one day? Because I don't really think I'd do a great job at it," he asked, pulling her onto his lap._

_She sighed, knowing that grin. He wasn't asking because he wanted to know her opinion. "Well... I think that you are great, Peter," she answered. "...And at many things," her words trailed to a whisper as he closed the space between them._

After two hours, Peter was still walking around the island. Stumbling to be exact. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly. He gasped when his foot caught on a stone and watched as a flock of crows flew into the air, startled that he disturbed their resting.

His dusty brown hair, that was already messy, was a bird's nest. He stumbled, looking out of breath as his jaw hung slightly ajar. His face had an uncomfortable red shade to it. This was also the day he was weakest, when Neverland became the most vulnerable to change.

He leans against a nearby tree just as an owl's hoot sounds thru the air. Peter's gaze catches it as it flies from the branch overhead.

On this day every year, Neverland seems to change little by little.

_"What's the feather for?" He knew it was a heritage-thing, but still he wanted to know. "Like, what type of bird is it from?"_

_"It's a night owl's."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because. It's from when you get a certain age you're sent to connect with nature, which is when you get your adult tribal name and sort of figure out yourself. You stay out in the forest—alone—for three days and have to bring back something in return to sort of prove that you've completed and mastered the task. Some bring back pendants; others, certain stones; and some," she pointed to the large light brown feather in her hair, "bring back animal parts."_

_"Oh," Peter breathed. "Sounds interesting. Think they'd let me do it? I am the only one fit to be chief next, after all," he joked._

_She giggled and shrugged._

_"What kind of person do you think I'd come out to be?"_

He had been stupid, naïve; she had been his weakness. She was quick, determined, and fierce—she was a threat, and he began to see that early on. He was selfish and knew it, and with the more children he brought back to Neverland, the more the island's power grew.

Peter trudged up the steep hill, refusing to use his powers in exchange for his dwindling energy. He huffed out a mouthful of air when he reached the top and was able to see the cave off in the distance.

_"What I think? What do I think!? I think that you are the most ignorant, arrogant, selfish man who needs to stop playing games!" She screamed at him. Her fingers flexed across the hilt of her knife, held at the ready for if he made a move to her._

_The two circled each other like predators, their eyes wide and crazed. Focused on the other waiting to make a move, both crouched like animals ready to rip each other's throats out. The Lost Boys had vacant the area, and from their seats, they could hear the sound of steel clashing again from their treehouse underground._

_"Well that makes two of us, 'Lily," he smiled cockily. "Those are some big words coming from someone who's such a shorty, you sick, bitchy squaw."_

_She returned his snarl before pouncing high in the air, dagger raised. She lost it._

The moon was very bright tonight. A large, silvery diamond in the sky, its night light illuminated all of Neverland in a beautiful, mystical glow.

A hummingbird flew past his face. Peter paused to watch it land on a large flower and begin to drink the nectar. He ran a hand thru his hair as an unwanted thought passed thru his mind—an unwanted memory—and scowled.

Peter took in the rest of the area. The flower covered the entire hillside, creating a beautiful vacant meadow. And with it, he could see hundreds of hummingbirds flying from flower to flower. These type of birds did not reside on Neverland, he had made sure of that, so why was there such a large group of them here?

Hummingbirds had secretly been one of her favorites.

Peter stood in awe, the sight still after all the years able to strike him. Hardly a single blade of grass could be seen between the millions of flowers. He plucked a flower nearest his shoe. The flower had large orange petals speckled with dark spots. Each petal's end curled backward exposing it's long middle that extended far into the air and was sprinkled with pollen. The moonlight made the flower appear to be a jewel.

She had been deadly, just like part of her name, yet so captivating. Just as the flower.

He flicked the plant to the ground and trudged thru the field without further thought. It's green stem was charred, smoking a little.

The war against the Native Americans had happened over 100 years ago, yet it still branded in his memory. It had been a one-man fight, really; Peter had destroyed more than the trust of the only people that had welcomed him to the island.

_She hadn't liked what it was doing to him, what _**_he_**_ was doing to _**_it_**_. He absorbed the islands power night and day, drinking it in like an addiction—it was his drug._

_It was the magic, she knew. She had warned him that it can become like a virus, as it had happened to take over a few of her tribe who, in the end, had to be put down._

_"If you aren't careful, it will soak into you, becoming you. You will become Neverland and Neverland will become you."_

_He had been too arrogant, just as he was now._

Peter scoffed.

He straightened his posture and stuck his chin out, giving into his bravado and ego. The familiar scowl became sinister on his almost-boyish face.

_She had been crazy. Ridiculous._

The snap of a twig made him freeze. He stepped behind a tree just as a wild boar ran past. Peter's nose turned up; he'd have to have a "talk" with Felix later. He thought he had ordered for all Lost Boys to stay in camp tonight.

Seconds later a young boy, looking no older than twelve, burst from the bushes, spear raised high, in hot pursuit of the squealing animal.

Peter waited until the sounds of their footsteps faded to let out a sigh. He didn't—couldn't let anyone see him, they would just stop and stall him for too long.

_"Peter, you worry too much,"_ he remembers her saying.

He had stepped back out into the meadow but had stopped short after a while. He had felt very exposed and alone under only the moonlight, and had used his power to teleport from the open clearing to back in the nearby trees. He felt as if he was being watched, and the feeling didn't leave even under the greenery covering.

_"You're a damn fool, Pan!"_

When he reached the top of the hill and saw the cave, he almost collapsed. Not only was he getting weaker but he was also closer now. All the bravery and gutlessness was all a show. That scowl and mocking smile he always wore was just a mask for now.

Echo Cave was just up ahead.

Peter did all but sprint to the dark cave, though no smile broke the hard look on his face.

_Ruby red berry juice stained her lips. She smiled, laughing silently, seeing how it had caught his attention._

_Peter swallowed nervously. She slowly ran her tongue over her lips, enjoying the fruity taste more than anything else._

He needed to get away from all this, he needed to rid himself from these thoughts—they did nothing but weigh and slow him down.

Peter came to an abrupt halt in front of the entrance. For minutes but what felt like hours, he stood staring at the vines and overgrowth hiding the mouth of the cave. He took a deep breath before stepping inside.

If one has ever heard of Echo Cave, they know that the only way to get inside was to voice a secret that one wouldn't speak to another living soul. This is also why the place so secure. It was the perfect place.

Peter's footsteps echoed off its dark cavernous walls. He lit the torch near the entrance. Waving the torch side to side, the shadows of the openings of multiple tunnels deep inside danced and flickered far on the other side of the cave. Peter walked to the edge of the opening, where the ground broke off and when one would have to speak a secret that would either break or fix one's life. A dark, wide, endless pit stood in between the entrance to the rest of the cave.

Peter snapped his fingers and the rock under him extended outwards in an arc, reaching to one of the smaller caves on the far side. It was one that could easily be missed especially in this heavy darkness.

He had picked it out; she had been the one who named the entire Cave.

The rock-bridge collapse behind him as soon as he stepped foot on the other side, then a gust of wind ruffed his hair. Peter squinted his eyes and the flame threatened to blow out. The rock under him shook and rumbled, threatening to collapse.

Peter sighed. It was the Cave warning him that he shouldn't cheat with magic.

Though there was no one else there, he still glanced left and right. Peter sighed, agitated.

"Alright!" he called out. He was not in a very cooperative mood. "You want to know about the little prick?! That _wench_!?"

The ground continued to shake.

"**OK!**" he shouted. "I did. I do, I guess," his voice calmed, though the venom still seeped from his words. "...I loved the Princess."

The ground calmed to cease. The cave where he was going opened from a small slit in the stone into a short tunnel. Peter walked inside and placed the torch in a holder on the wall.

He gazed into the darkness; he couldn't see. There was still one more secret that needed to be told.

Peter's voice was just above a whisper. "...And I'm the one who caused her demise."

The torch's flame blaze brighter and the entire tunnel was lit in the warm glow of the fire. Peter's eyes squinted in the dim lighting.

The tunnel was a shrine of some sorts, built bit by bit over years. Animal skin pictures hung in the small cave; jewels, trinkets and other small treasures lined the walls; and tiny hills of sand could be seen here and there lining the cave walls. Far to the back, where the light barely reached, was a large painting high above several mounds of wax. The wax were handmade candles that covered different level pedestals. Wilted flowers of orange pedals with dark speckles sat in clay cups and jars amongst the candles. On stolen pillows in the middle of them all sat a skeleton. It slumped to the side at an angle, it's head lolled to the side slightly. It still wore the thin cloth dress and moccasins during its passing. The skeleton was small, coming to stand just under Peter's nose if it were still alive; the person had passed at a young age, a juvenile no doubt.

As Peter looks down at the decayed body, his face softens. He takes in his handiwork and the permanent scowl disappears for the time being. The dress was still decorated in its embroidery and to him, it was just as beautiful on the skeleton as when it were alive. But his eyes purposely stayed away from the tear of the dress in the chest area that hid its broken ribs that were crumbling to dust.

For just a few minutes, he was different. For a few moments, he was the Peter he had been all those years ago. The one who flew runaways, orphans, and neglected children to Never Neverland for a better life, not kidnap them in the middle of the night by hypnotic music. The one before the island's magic was threatened and Henry and his family came. He was the Peter Pan that everyone knew _and_ loved.

When he belonged to her. He had been _her_ Peter.

He gets down on his knees, his fingers tracing the necklace around the bare neckbone. Several braids still hung onto the skull by a few strands, and bows and small feathers filled what little hair still held on to the bone. He eyes the small number of mini sand piles to his side.

Peter places a hand atop the skull and he leans closer to leave a kiss on the forehead.

"I'll bring you another hummingbird, Tigerlily."

**Have you ever felt like you're being followed?**  
**Or watched the ones that held your stare?**  
**Turned around to see who's behind you to find there's no one there**  
**Lurking in the dark there's someone who breathes you night and day**  
**There's a friend who wants so much more**  
**And if they can't have you, they'll never let you walk away.**

* * *

I've been a PeterLily fan since I first watched the 1953 disney cartoon. and I am quite disappointed that they haven't (if they even are, which I doubt) added her to the OUaT cast yet. Even something brief. COME ON ABC! (you can hate me later.

The words in bold at the end are from the song "tigerlily" by La Roux. The orange flowers with brown speckles are actually called Tiger Lily flowers. And yes, the small mounds are buried hummingbirds, one killed for each year. Also yes, the skeleton is


	2. So Far (additional part)

**After episode 8, I just... ...I can't even.. *Faqin' mind explosion***

**This takes place during episode 2, i think. ...i'll go check. Oh, wait, a new episode is about to come on.**

* * *

"I think you're lying to me." Henry didn't turn around. He couldn't stand to look at him, angry that he he had been tricked for so long. "My family, there're never late. They're here, I know it."

When Peter arrived back at the camp, Henry was sitting on a log as if he had been waiting for his return.

Peter had swallowed, emotionally swallowing all previous feelings of earlier. "What makes you so sure," he countered.

"Doesn't matter."

"Oh."

That had been the same thing she had said, before she...

The laugh Peter let out was bitter. It was to keep from crying. "It doesn't...? But I'd be a mess to point out what _does_." Peter told Henry that his family was here and that he wasn't holding them hostage. But when the young boy turned to him, Peter knew that he could no longer manipulate this boy. At least, not as well.

"Then why do you keep disappearing into the jungle?" Henry countered.

Peter's face fell.

"You're hiding something from me and I'm going to find out what it is." Then without any further words, Henry left.

The boy was strong, Peter had to give him that.

He didn't need to look to know that Felix was who came to his side then. "It appears that we're losing the boy," he had the audacity to say.

Peter closed his eyes momentarily to keep from snarling and backlashing the boy.

Peter had that smile on his face but it didn't last. "He just requires..." He paused to take a deep breath, searching for the right words. "...Some effort." Despite, his eyes began to water. He blinked several times before continuing with a swallow. "Given his lineage, I expect nothing less."

It is true, those with royalty seem to have the most determination, Peter thought. This time the lump in his throat was harder to swallow down.

_It was over 100 years ago, and Neverland was abuzz with festivity. The Piccaninny Tribe was alive with celebration. Music and the smell of food filled the air, bodies sweaty from dancing gathered around the bonfire in the clearing at the center of the tribe._

_Tigerlily danced and swayed to the drumbeat atop a large drum. The way her moves were so fluid and graceful, the way she was able to sway her body from side to side that way, had Peter's attention from the start._

_Every member was dressed in his or her finest clothes and traditional jewelry._

_Peter watched her as she twirled to the Native's song before jumping to the ground. She continued dancing as she made her way to him. She stopped when she was at his feet._

_Tigerlily's dress was decorated in beautiful stitches and embroidery. Her beads and bracelets jangled at her body movements. He wore the long headdress of a chief's that reached past his feet._

_She moved her face side to side, rubbing their noses together, and in the process Peter nuzzled his head back into the headdress, at first unsure of what she was doing. Her lips were like a feeling of no other. Light and oh, so softly she kissed him. But what a tease she was as well, and pulled back before he was able to respond._

_Tigerlily giggled watching Peter's look go from clueless to a giant goofy smile, his face turning a bright crimson color in the process._

* * *

**For those who couldn't remember, this ending is from the disney 1954 cartoon movie, when Tigerlily _did_ kiss Peter during Neverland's Native Americans' celebration.**

**I was so shocked at the number of views I got from this, Thank you all so much! 100+ views in 24 hours. Whoo! ****Yea i know this is short but I wanted to put up something. Sorry, but this is it for this.**

**Peter x Tigerlily ❥**


	3. Vanished Princess

**Ok, I lied about that being the end. ...I guess. This takes place during episode 8.**

**Listening to "Numb" by Rihanna for the flashback**

* * *

_Peter leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the table as if she wasn't there._

_Tigerlily remained standing in the empty room. It was a sort of makeshift living area. Handmade toys and weapons were kicked to the edges of the room along with pieces of clothing and clay plates. A lone, long table and chairs sat at the center of the room._

_Pan had evacuated the other Boys, saying that he wanted to talk to Tigerlily alone. None had objected; they knew that it was close to being the same as gutted alive when Pan wanted to "speak with you alone."_

_Tigerlily refused to look at him. Peter watched her hair fall in front of her shoulders as her head turned to the side._

_The silence persisted. Peter closed his eyes as he rocked back and forth with his feet. Then he realized it had gotten **too** quiet. He opened his eyes to find that the room was **really** empty._

_"Lily," he called. He hadn't heard her leave. ...But then again, she can walk as soundly as a ghost._

_When he didn't get an answer he called again. "Lily!"_

_Peter breathed out a breath of relief seeing her step out from around the corner. He had been ready to jump from his chair. Peter had been about to ask her a question but stopped seeing the bowl in her hands. His brows furrowed as he eyed the bright red berries inside._

_She set the bowl on the table near his feet, then walked over to the long tunnel that led from the surface as a sort of slide—she was listening for eavesdroppers._

_"Did Felix tell you any reason why I wanted you down hear, 'Lily?" He looked up to her without raising his head, the mocking tone permanent in his voice._

_Again, she ignored him._

_And Peter was losing his patience. Feet still on the table, he watched as she walked over to him in silence. Like him, she was not smiling but frowning. She was sure to make take her time with each step, trailing her hand on the tabletop slowly behind her, Tigerlily practically glared down at him under half closed lids. Pan shifted in his seat—he knew that look._

_"Do you know why **I** wanted you down here," she countered, "why I **made** you talk to Felix?"_

_He watched as her dress hiked up to reveal one leg to stretch across to him. He softly grunted when her body weight settled on him as she straddled him. The look she gave him was one others would mistake for downgrading. Sometimes he loved that her dress had few fastenings..._

_She leaned close to his ear. "I know you, Peter. And you are **very** impatient." He felt her hands slide across his chest. She giggled feeling his body responding to his wants and her advances. "We are one, you already know."_

_She heard him swallow thickly. "You think you do now, lovey." He turned to look at her with what others would call a scowl. "Well I'd advise you that I can indeed be very patient when I want to be."_

_Tigerlily bolted up straight, quickly putting distance between the two, still frowning down at him. She leaned back to grab the small bowl of berries. She didn't see Pan's face skew up in anticipating pain._

_"Now Peter," she taunted, "you are never a good boy." __Her eyes were on the bright berries as she lifted a small bunch from the bowl and up to the air as if she was studying them. __His eyes remained on her._

_Before she knew it, Peter had snatched the berries from her and his other hand tangled in her hair as he held her head to breath in her ear. Somehow the bowl was back on the table—his magic again._

_"Now whoever said I was a **good** boy." His brow quirked, mockingly, seductively._

_He crushed the berries in his hand. Peter's shirt had already had a few loose fastenings at the top, and his eyes bore into hers as he smeared red juice on his exposed chest. His look daring her to defy him, dared her to break the stare._

_Tigerlily reached behind herself to loosen most of the fastenings of her dress just to tease him. His eyes flickered but didn't fail._

_Intense silence followed. _

_Peter's words hung in the air, hot tension filled the air. _

_Tigerlily's fingers drummed his chest. _

_The juice dripped._

_Finally__, she broke. She turned away, angry that her eyes had dropped. He had won._

_Pan took that opportunity to make a mark on her neck. Tigerlily felt the juice already sliding down her neck but before she could look to him, she felt his lips wiping it off, and leaving a different kind of mark._

Regina circled the Boys. If looks could kill, they all would have been dead. The only thing that held her back was the overpowering love for her son.

The plan was to split up—her, Emma, Neal, and Rumple were to follow Pan to Skull Rock. Mary Margaret, David, Hook, and Tinkerbell were to remain with the Lost Boys and keep an eye on Wendy. But now as they arrived, that worry she had been repressing emerged full forced.

Thanks to Tinkerbell, they had found a second row boat hidden in the brush and on the way there, no question was spared to Neal about his experiences on Neverland. Ones as innocent as "what was it like" and "what did you all do" were asked as well as those "how many times did you try to kill Pan" and "when did it occur to you that those other boys that disappeared were killed?"

After a while of answering with one-word answers, Neal finally gave in with a heavy breath. "He wasn't a very good storyteller," he admitted randomly. "And like in the stories, there were girls who were the ones to do that to entertain us. Specifically to the younger boys."

Emma frowned, "_girls_? I've only heard of Wendy—-"

"Well there was her too. But there was also Tigerlily. She was the—-"

Regina interrupted. "Wasn't she that Native American girl-person who was never significant to the story?"

"Oh, she was very significant," Neal chuckled to lighten the mood and ignoring Regina's interruption. "Though I wasn't very sure why her story was never really told..." Neal's voice trailed off as if he was speaking to himself. As silence persisted, it was evident that he had become lost in his thoughts, regardless being the one who was rowing.

Emma gently nudged his shoulder. "Are you okay," she asked softly.

Neal had been gazing at her for too long he realized, hearing Regina clear her throat, before answering with a feeble "yeah."

"Now that I think about it," Neal continued, "I think that he had told John and Michael—Wendy's brothers who left a long time ago—and a few others who left, to not tell about her to protect her."

"Why? Did something happen to her?" Emma asked.

"No, her people," he answered. "She was the princess, and years ago, her people were slaughtered, still to this day by something unknown." He paused to row thru a few passing waves. "She was devastated, I remember, but ended up living with the handful of survivors."

"So he did that because he took pity on her?" Regina filled in the blank bitterly.

"Actually," Neal mused the thought over in his head and paused. He huffed as he rowed thru a particularly difficult wave. "...I think he might have loved her."

This earned all heads to snap toward him.

No one noticed the growing scowl on Rumple's face.

"I mean it kinda makes sense when I think about it. Whenever there was a celebration at her tribe, he always danced with her, even when Wendy was here. ...The times he asked to speak with her alone. ...She was the only one who he would fight and he wouldn't kill. I mean he _did_ threaten and talk of making her walk off a cliff, like a plank, but he never did it. He had been very mindful of her whereabouts, too. _And_ she was the only one who he let speak to him that way and not have her throat slit."

"You mean they fought?!" Regina stated, shocked.

At the same time, Emma asked, also shocked, "slit throats?! What could she have possibly said?"

Neal chuckled lightly, more to himself this time as a memory came. "Nothing special. ...Like, I can remember times when we—me and The Boys—could hear arguing and metal from down in the clubhouse, sometimes with glass shattering. That's where it usually happened, they called it "fighting practice." Pan could never really hide his anger, though, and we all knew. ...There were even some nights they would wake some of us up and we could hear them going at it."

Emma placed a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. Neal, however, didn't see it as so and brushed it off good-heartedly.

Rumple shifted to gaze out to the water, trying to tune out his son's words. It was surprisingly harder to do than he thought.

"So. Do you know what happened to her? Did she leave the island too—maybe she could be back in Storybrooke? Or you think she's somewhere on Neverland?"

Emma noticed Neal's expression changed. "I hope it is the latter. ...Sometime before I escaped this place, she disappeared."

"What do you mean disappeared?" Regina countered.

"Just that." Neal shrugged. "One day no one heard high or tail of her for no reason. The survivors she was living with were gone too, I heard, soon afterwards. I hope she's okay, though..."

No one spoke again until the boat docked at Skull Rock soon after.

As the four exited, Emma couldn't help but ask. "So she was like the stories say?" she whispered to Neal.

"That, and better."

**Dig up her bones but leave the soul alone**  
**Boy with a broken soul**  
**Heart with a gaping hole**  
**Dark twisted fantasy turned to reality**  
**Kissing death and losing my breath**

* * *

**The words in bold at the end are lyrics from the song "****bones" by Ms Mr.**


	4. Give What You Like

_The view of the sea under the clear sky was beautiful. Looking down, flowers and beautiful tropical trees could be seen swaying in the wind near the shore. Tigerlily didn't pay any attention to any of it, though. She was standing out the edge of the rock, looking out from the eye of Skull Rock._

_The heavy animal skin blanket around her was the only thing shielding her from the wind and hiding her modesty. She hugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders to rid herself from the cold as her now-loose hair hung past her shoulders. But some part of herself said that she deserves freezing._

_What she had done was wrong. The elders had even said that one shouldn't._

_What would her father say, he chief, knowing that she, the sacred and "pure" princess, had committed the ultimate unforgivable?_

_What would they all say now? How would she be punished?_

_Tigerlily dug the heels of her hands in her eyesockets feeling her eyes begin to burn. Her head hurt; she was over-thinking again._

_They had said that it is only for spiritual or religious purposes. ...But he had said it wasn't and that it was for different reasons._

_...She had even liked it..._

_"Tigerlily?"_

_Her blood ran cold hearing his voice call her. She knew he was thinking that she must have left and she had thought of doing just that, except when she looked outside, she had forgotten one small detail: she couldn't fly._

_Peter bolted upright when he awoke. And not seeing her beside him, he instantly became concerned. Then he realized that he awoke because of the sudden cold—the heavier (and warmer) of the two blankets were gone._

_She knew that he could see her from their makeshift bed when he stood._

_Tigerlily didn't turn around to him. She rolled her eyes hearing the rattling of a belt buckle, and the image of him shirtless oozed into her thoughts; the "bed" they both had occupied was a messy woven collection of giant leaves, feathers, and many soft things Peter had gotten from a place called Earth. For some reason, she then began feeling nauseous and felt her knees weaken. It was only her worrying too much, she told herself._

_Tigerlily doubted she should or even _**_could _**_return to her tribe after now._

_The noise of his boots climbing up the steps is what broke her out of her train of thought._

_Skull Rock had been very quiet all morning._

_Large, pale hands grasped her hips on top the thick blanket. Tigerlily felt her heart skip and frowned feeling him pull her to his chest from behind._

_Of course he was already dressed, she thought to herself. They both had business to attend to._

_"I have to go arrange some...rules with the Boys back at camp," Pan's voice was low. And Tigerlily remained quiet._

_No "good morning" or anything like. There were also very few "I'm sorry"'s and little to no "please"'s between them. It wasn't that they both didn't care for the other—that was their relationship. Though some would say it was an odd one or not even a relationship at all, those that would say that do not know these two._

_Peter noticed her silence; he looked down at the top of her hair and his brows knitted together. "Lily..."_

_She didn't turn around, acting as if he wasn't even there. Tigerlily felt him become antsy, his hands coaxing up and down her sides. This did give him a reaction like he hoped and Peter smirked when she shuffled._

_"Or~" He bent down to whisper in her ear, his lips quickly moving towards her jugular. "Since we don't have to back right away..we can kill time once more time..."_

_He squeezed her hips, pulling her against him to sway with his. One hand reached up to the end of the blanket to peel it off._

_Tigerlily could imagine it all: her animal skin cover would pool to the floor around her ankles, he would wrap her in his arms and they'd repeat the same sin as the night before. It'd be so easy to..._

_She jumped away from his grasp, hands raised up to him to keep away._

_Peter looked up to her annoyed and confused. But before he could yell "what is wrong with you?" and begin accusing her, she confessed: "I can't. We shouldn't have done it, Peter."_

_After several seconds of staring at her, he let his arms, that were still hovering in position, slap to his sides. She wasn't looking up to him but at the ground; it clicked to him that she was serious._

_Peter studied her before countering, "why?" She seemed suddenly shy and very upset, which was very unlike her._

_"Because the spirits will punish—-" Tigerlily walked around him and looked at the giant hourglass. Peter watched her from behind as she watched the sand draining to the bottom half. Unknowingly watching his life drain before her eyes. "...I like you Peter, I really do, you already know. Or I would have killed you."_

_Honestly, she had been skeptical to it earlier. But thinking tends to come a bit harder on a late night with the boy you've been crushing on for over a decade and a few drinks._

_She paused, looking for the right words, her voice lowing down to just above a whisper. She could hear him walking away and imaged his hands clenched, scowling. "...I'm just..."_

_He stopped, rapidly turning on his heels. "Scared?" he spat._

_Tigerlily looked up, glaring at him._

_"I thought we established this already," he was stalking back to her, finger raised pointed at her. Static filled the air caused by his magic and emotion as he became angry. "You don't do anything against me, I won't do anything against you," he reproclaimed their neutral agreement when they first met. Then he paused and her words sunk in. Peter's face scrunched up in disbelief and his hand dropped. "Why would you ever think I'd do something to hurt you?!"_

_An eyebrow raised at him, remembering the fight that led to them coming to Skull Rock in the first place._

_"Whatever I do is for your own good, Tigerlily!"_

_Her chin raised in defiance._

_He walked until he was toe to toe with her. Peter was surprised to see tears welling in her bright brown eyes—he could see that she was indeed very afraid, and it wasn't just words. This was the first time she had ever shown fear and it quite unnerved him._

_"Princess," Peter looked her straight in the eyes, speaking slowly, letting his words lay heavy in the air.. "I would never do anything to scare you," he then smirked at her expression, also remembering the fight last night, "nothing besides your best interest in mind, your majesty."_

_Finally, her expression softened, even by a little._

_"Believe in me, Tigerlily," it sounded like both a question and a demand. The air warmed to normal. Peter dared to smile a little._

_He placed his hands on her shoulders, she slumped forward and he pulled her to his chest._

_Peter suddenly pulled back and held her at arms' length. "Aren't you only wearing this blanket?"_

_"Really?" Her tiny smile was gone. "Of course, I can't wear my clothes now, the buttons are broken!"_

_His eyebrow quirked. "Doesn't hurt to ask."_

_Both paused, letting the wind blow inside from the eye of Skull Rock, ruffling their hair. The air became very soft and warm._

_Tigerlily slowly crossed the few steps to stand back in front of him. Peter watched her as she bit her lip, her hair casting a shadow over her eyes as she looked up to him. ...And that cocky smirk of his:_

_"Wipe that damn smile off of your face." Her command was added with a tug to his belt._

_Peter's smile grew._

_Tigerlily sighed, cursing. He saw her gaze settle on his mouth. "There are some spare clothes you can borrow... ." he breathed, his voice becoming raspy._

_Her fingers caressed through the back of his hair. Little by little, Peter inched towards her parted lips. The air seemed to thicken and rise in temperature._

_"Ok," she whispered against his mouth. Her eyes never leaving his. Peter's green eyes bore down into her brown s._

_His hand slid down her sides. She felt his hands grip her hips, holding her to him._

_Peter used the magic to move back behind the giant skull-shaped rock and in front of their makeshift feather-bed._

_The kiss was not soft and sweet—and the two quickly became breathless, clawing at each other in desperate lust._

_She raised one of his hands to the top of the edge of her blanket. It fell off her shoulders and joined the rocks at their feet._

_Wrapping her arms around his neck, Tigerlily brought Peter Pan down back to the bed._

"Why does it have to be here that I have to save magic?" Henry looked over to Pan. For the entire trip, he hadn't spoken; Henry hadn't wanted to break the silence anyhow. And now, Pan was looking around the giant cave like a child in a toystore for the first time.

"It's been a long time since I've stepped foot on this shore," Pan had whispered to himself, not meaning for Henry to hear and the boy raised an eyebrow.

Pan turned to the younger boy. "Because," he answered Henry's question, "this is the location of which Neverland's magic animates."

Pan saw the boy's attention trailing away, looking at something behind him. He turned to look towards what had Henry's attention at the same time Henry began walking away. Pan's stomach knotted.

"What's the hourglass for?"

Pan watched Henry stare at the giant hourglass in awe. "It marks how much time we have left before Neverland's magic runs out," he lied.

All the Lost Boys knew that Skull Rock was off limits; Skull Rock was Pan's private property unless he said otherwise.. Neither they, the mer-people, or Native tribe dared to go; they knew what had happened to the last pirates that stepped foot on the island—their clothes, that are all that remain, are used as extra clothing in emergencies.

Pan had become ruthless, merciless, in the short century he was here. His dark ways were blinded by the innocent eyes of The Boys. And Henry was no different.

There was no way Pan brought Henry to Skull Rock to save magic—it was very much alive in Neverland. Henry had no idea just who exactly he was dealing with (in more ways than one).

"It's almost empty," Henry remarked about the diminishing sand at the top half of the hourglass.

Yet he was more comfortable around Pan, there was still a small part of Henry that did not trust him. So when he saw Pan looking around frantically and lying that there was nothing wrong, he hesitated to follow what he was told.

But he was now a Lost Boy who would follow every command.

"Wait here." Pan sat Henry on a rock well hidden and out of earshot. "There is something I need to take care of before we get started, okay?"

Henry obeyed without conflict, completely oblivious that Pan was to trap Rumple inside Pandora's Box and then return for his heart. And Pan knew that Henry wouldn't refuse.

**When you turn off the lights**  
**I get stars in my eyes;**  
**Is this love?**  
**Maybe someday.**  
**I've got the scene in my head,**  
**I'm not sure how it ends.**  
**Is it love?**  
**Maybe one day.**  
**So don't turn on the lights**  
**I'll give you what you like**

* * *

This is getting a bit more mature... Episode 8 is where this is taking place...again. Right before Rumple confronts his papa, and Emma and the rescue crew come and try to stop Henry from killing himself.

I want to write a more sensitive side of Pan, maybe with the Tigerlily flashbacks? What do you think?

The words in bold are from Avril Lavigne's new song "give you what you like"


	5. Machiavelli

**I would have uploaded a lot sooner, but after the last two episodes...I couldn't even muster the gander to open my computer. R.I.P. Rumple and Regina, P.P., even Felix who was only trying to do what he thought was right. I hope that's not the end of them :( #TheStruggleIsReal**

**We are still on episode 8 here.**

* * *

"Hello laddie," Pan smirked. "Oh, so you come bearing gifts?"

"Where is Henry?" Rumple snarled.

"You mean my great-grandson." The knowing smile was now gone. Pan looked Rumple over. "You still haven't told the others who I really am," it dawned on him. He turned to walk up the steps to stand near his giant hourglass, it'd be easier to look down on his son now. "Not even your own son," Pan turned on his heels, "why?"

"Because you're nothing but a coward to me."

"We both know if that were true, I'd already be in that box."

Rumple felt his anger boil at the challenge. "You don't think that I can do it," he turned Pandora's Box over in his hands. He itched to use it, to open it and finally put...this _demon_ away for good. But first, he wanted some answers. "You let me inside just to..talk to me..?"

_The air overflowed with the smell of smoke, blood, and charred bodies, and she fell to her knees. Her hands, that were rubbed raw, tried to hold back the tears, but they ran like a rapid river._

_Her people, her tribe. Her family lay scattered across the ground like garbage._

_Tigerlily grabbed at her hair as if that would make it all go away, make her tears stop, and make the putrid smell of death leave._

_Fire had eaten away most of her camp, and she could see small surviving flames here and there throughout her home._

_She had left just late yesterday to help fish and hunt. How could this mass murder have happen in less than one day?! She could tell that her people went out fighting and made a mental note to create a memorial for them._

_When first arriving back at camp, Tigerlily had dropped her net of fish and ran into camp, or what was left of it burning. She had ran from hut to hut, calling names, screaming for a familiar face. She had found none. And the worst was when she came to her father's hut—she found blood smeared the walls, and the sight...she had closed her eyes before she could take in all the details._

_She saw that her father died protecting her mother's wooden totem._

_Tigerlily had then stumbled outside, feeling the tears finally prickle in her eyes and sobs rip from her throat. It was too much, this all was way too much. And she broke down, crying in what had been the center of the Piccaninny camp._

_The sky was heavy with black smoke. Little embers floated in the air like faeries. Her tears fell to the ground, soaking the fire-tinged earth. Tigerlily was so distraught and caught up in herself that she didn't notice her company until a hand was placed on her shoulder. She jumped and turned to the figure at her side, ready to strike._

_Peter swallowed, also looking out at the __destruction. "I came to see if you were okay." He squeezed her shoulder and she looked back out in the distance, out at death, and her face became expressionless. "But I can see that I came all too late."_

_Try as she might, her words cracked tremendously. "Who would do such a thing...?"_

_He felt her shoulders shake as another wave of tears came over her._

_"What...monster hated us so to slaughter all of them?"_

"No. To see you again," Pan admitted. "To give you one last chance."

_"I don't know, Tigerlily," he lied._

Rumple's brows creased.

_"Looks like it got rid of everything. I doubt anything survived." Peter sighed, taking in the charred Native American home, "what a shame for such a magnificent people... ...Now you're the princess of nothing."_

_For a second, Tigerlily stared at the ground. For a second, a weird negative feeling stirred in her stomach, but she pushed it aside as she stood._

"Stay with me. Let this go," Pan offered. "Let's start over."

Slowly, a small, sly smile grew on Rumple's face. "Do you think I want to be with you," he spat the words like poison. "That I could _ever_ forgive you after you abandoned me?"

"I'm disappointed, Rumple."

Rumple's eyes didn't leave Pan, watching the "young" man watch the sand in the hourglass, and smile.

"After all these years, I thought you'd be more...understanding."

_"I need to search for any __survivors. Some things made it through, maybe."_

_Peter grabbed her wrist. "You just did. There was nothing left," he insisted. She stared out at the remains of camp, and he hoped she didn't hear the faint moan under debris in the distance._

Pan turned and pointed his finger at Rumple, "considering _you_ did the same thing—you traded _Baelfire_ for the power of _the dagger_; and I traded you for youth. We're a little more alike than you care to admit—-"

"-—We are _nothing_ alike—-!"

"-—_Of course we are._ And there's nothing to be ashamed of. ...Neither one of us was cut out to be a father, my boy."

"I regretted leaving my son the moment I let him go." Rumple starred Pan down with as much hatred as he would have in his old days, when he had been The Dark One. "I spent my _life_ trying to find him, to get him _back_."

Pan's eyes lowered. He felt something stir inside him, something he hadn't felt for decades. And he didn't like it. It hurt more than it should have when he looked back up at Rumple.

"And what did you do? You forgot about me—-"

"_I **never** forgot about you!_" Pan's face twisted in disbelief, "why do yo u think I call myself Peter Pan!?"

Rumple refused to fall into another one of his father's sympathy traps. "Don't think for a moment that I believed it was because you "cared" for me."

_Tigerlily didn't try to break from his hold._

_The two stood that way for some time—Peter holding her wrist while Tigerlily froze just as she was about to step away. When Peter saw her shoulders wrack again, he knew why she remained turned away from him: she was silently crying._

_Peter sighed, "Come here." He pulled her to him, ignoring the wetness on her face that buried in his neck and her silent sobs._

_He stared out at the remains of her camp with a look that could kill._

"But I do."

Rumple didn't refrain rolling his eyes.

"All you have to do is put down that box, and you'll see it's true."

Rumple remained silent.

"We can make the fresh start you always wanted. Together. Just as we planned."

A heavy silence filled the air of both men. Of a father and son bent by time, staring one another down. One's goal to manipulate, the other trying to see the truth in the lie.

"Oh I'm gonna make a fresh start. ...Just not with you." To Rumple's satisfaction, Pan looked taken aback. Finally—_finally_, with this box in his hands, Rumple thought, he could be free, to save his family and loved ones _and_ live. Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand over Pandora's Box.

Skull Rock remained silent.

Pan's chuckle made his stomach dropped. Appalled, Rumple waved his hand over the box again, and again, trying to command it to open. "I don't understand," he stated in disbelief.

"'Cause you don't have it!"

Rumple stared, dumbfounded. "You switched them...?"

"Follow the lady," and Pan whipped out an identical box.

Rumple cursed himself. Of course, it was just like the games his father used to play, the same one that he used to con bypassers out of their money. How could he have forgotten!?

"Still having trouble believing," Pan mocked his son. "In Neverland, all you have to do is _think_ of something to have it," he pointed to the counterfeit box, "even something fake."

Rumple continued looking around in dismay and Pan couldn't help but smile. He continued, "Oh the real one? Well," Pan examined the small box in his hands, throughly amazed and enjoying his victory. His eyes were dangers that bore into Rumple. "Let's see what it can do..."

Henry twiddled with his fingers awaiting Pan's return. If he would have peeked around the corner, he would have seen his grandfather transmute into a cloud of red smoke, and then sucked inside a small metal box. And he might have even heard Pan mutter an apology and "you had you're chance. The choice was yours." But he didn't. Henry remained at his seat, out of sight, and out of earshot. Just like a true Lost Boy.

_Tigerlily wrapped her arms around his neck. The thought that this was the first unnecessary physical contact exchanged and first act of kindness will come later. __She let him whisper reassuring nothings to her._

_"You should rest now...you're welcome to come back to camp with me and The Boys. Whatever was out here is long gone. You're safe now." Peter's arms encircled her waist, and she welcomed it._

_He suddenly froze. Blood speckled the underside of his sleeve and his palms were stained with blood that hadn't been wiped all the way off. Peter made sure to hug her lightly._

_"I've got you now, Princess. I'll protect you." He watched a lone patch of fire lick at the air, reflecting in his eyes. "Nothing will ever happen to you as long as I'm here."_

**I'm a killer, cold and wrathful.**  
**Silent sleeper, I've been inside your bedroom**  
**I've murdered half the town, left you love notes on their headstones**  
**I'll fill the graveyards until I have you.**

* * *

Machiavelli (actually Machiavellian) means to be cunning, scheming, and unscrupulous

So Christmas break is finally here so I should have more time to pump out chapters quicker than before. And I am taking any ideas for chapters or even the story, and I am taking any prompts you may want to see in here.

Bold words at the end are the lyrics from Ludo's song "The Horror of Our Love".


	6. L'amour de Loin

**This is when the Emma, Neal and Regina were still at Skull Rock before coming back to camp. Also when Hook and Tink had captured all The Lost Boys.**

* * *

"So," Hook knelt before The Boys, "why don't you all nice lassies tell us what you know about Pan."

The looks given back were a mix ranging from nervous to hatred.

"We would't tell you the time of day," one boy spat.

Hook brushed off his coat as he stood. "This is for your own good, boys," he sighed. He ignored the urge to reach for the bottle at his belt.

"You know nothing about us," another shouted.

That's when Tinkerbell tapped Hook's shoulder. "One's missing," she whispered, counting The Lost Boys.

Hook recounted, also dumbfounded. Both turned just in time to avoid the figure pouncing from the trees. Their attacker was a slightly taller one and stronger than the other Lost Boys, and after wrestling the attacker to the ground, neither was too surprised to find out who it was.

"Felix," Hook scoffed. "Should have known."

Hateful eyes glared up from the ground under his messy blonde curls. Hook eyed the scar that ran under Felix's eye, the look in the young man' eyes making him forget momentarily that he was an adolescent.

Tinkerbell wasted no time to drag the eldest Lost Boy to a tree and tie him up, given the rest of The Boys have already been as well.

"Nice to see you too, Tinkerbell," Felix ignored Hook's presence, sarcasm dripped from his words as his back was slammed against a tree. He hissed when the rope dug into his wrist. Tink paused, not wanting to hurt him too badly. She has known The Lost Boys for over a century, after all.

"It's okay, gorgeous," Felix hissed, seeing her hesitate, "I like it rough."

She pulled the rope tighter and tied a double knot.

Hook stepped in front of their captured. "Felix, was it?" he shuffled, "what can you tell us about Pan's plans?"

"What's it to you, pirate," he spat.

"Because you all can help us stop him from destroying every single realm and world that exists. Including yours."

Felix continued staring at the trees ahead.

Tinkerbell, who had been sitting on a large boulder, folded her arms. "It sure is quiet now-a-days," she commented. After a pause, she asked, "have any of you heard from Tigerlily? I haven't seen her in years."

After a collected silence and shakes of heads, Hook nudged Felix. "You're the ring leader right now. You talk."

Felix rolled his eyes. He sighed, "no one's heard a howl or word from her in _years_, Tinkerbell, you know that. Why ask a silly question, pretty girl?" He knew, like others, that faeries loved flattery.

"She couldn't have just up and disappeared out of nowhere," Tinkerbell insisted.

"These boys are ruthless," Hook whispered to her after she hopped down from the boulder, "they could be responsible for number of things that have happened on Neverland, Tink."

"I'd _never_ harm the Princess!" Felix snarled. That had struck a nerve.

"Oh, then?" Tink stood in front of the young human, arms folded once again. "What about her tribe?"

"Her tribe?" Hook questioned but Tinkerbell ignored him.

"Who set fire to her home and killed all her family?" She stared down at the young man's scared face. Those eyes hid more secrets, more pain and regrets than that could fill a book.

"Well, when you say it like that—-"

Tinkerbell had her dagger pressed to Felix's throat before he finished his sentence. She watched his adam's apple bob before staring back up at his eyes. "So it _was_ you, you insensitive, apathetic _prick_."

"You think that _we_, a bunch of _children_, would perform a mass murder?" It was a trick question.

"To be a child in just a temporary physical state. Children are capable of anything one would consider an adult to be capable of." Tink's eyes were like daggers.

Hook swallowed. Neverland seemed to cast a deadly envelope over all those who stayed for too long; never had he seen any of the other faeries with such venom in their eyes.

Felix shook his head in answer. "There was no one here who did not like her. I, personally," he leaned in close as best as he could, speaking slowly, "would _never_ bring harm to her."

Tink raised her chin and ran the tip of her knife up his long throat. "And why not?"

_His hands slid up her thigh to disappear under her dress. She sighed, tightening her legs around his waist, as she threw her head back. He wasted no time to burry his face into her neck, and earned a passionate hiss as he pulled her long, raven hair. His pale hand raised to pull away the clothe of her dress from her shoulders, revealing her red skin to the open air. Pan raised his eyes from Tigerlily's shoulder as they sat at the edge of his bed, seeming to look right at Felix. And he jumped away from the cracked door, forgetting the message he was to deliver, and deciding it could wait._

_Though his viewpoint had her back to him, the image stayed with Felix for a _**_long_**_ time._

"You are Pan's right hand man. What kind of sick plan did you have for her?"

"Don't ask questions you wouldn't want the answers to," Felix countered.

Hook paced, becoming more impatient as the seconds ticked. "You are just making matters worse for yourself," he advised.

"Are you sure," Tink asked Felix. "Had something happened—because you know how some of them," she indicated to the remaining Lost Boys, "are about their grudges."

_Tigerlily sat at the head of the group. The small semicircle was made up of the younger of The Lost Boys, the others were either out on errands or minding his own business._

_Felix sat further away, close to the edge of camp, breaking apart branches for firewood. From his place, he could still hear the story about warriors and magic she told to the cubs, as she called the youngest boys._

_Felix glanced up just in time to catch her look up in his direction. Then to his surprise, a small smile transformed his face, and Tigerlily had returned it with one of hers._

_A small part of Felix churred, screaming at him to stop, that this was wrong. He watched her turn her attention back to the small children in front of her and paused before going back to the firewood._

_She was a princess, and twice taken—already by her destiny with her tribe, and then there was Pan. She was already his. And Felix was just a lost boy. There was no way a "them" could happen, not in this life, not on Neverland. Especially not now. She'd never think of him in that way, Felix told himself. Peter would wring his neck, literally, without a second thought._

"I'm sure," Felix answered, a weird grin slowly growing on his face.

"She was a...rough girl, Felix. I'm sure she ruffled a few feathers," Tinkerbell pressed.

Hook stepped back, both surprised at this more aggressive side of the faerie and seeing that she had the situation under control.

"You and I know that the only _feathers_ she ever ruffled were intruders who unwelcomly came to Neverland and dream-killers," Felix partially lied. "Right, pirate?"

This got her attention. Tinkerbell turned to Hook. "Pirate, what is he talking about?"

"So my name is suddenly 'pirate'," Hook muttered to himself. "I had a run-in with Princess Tigerlily when I came to Neverland after becoming a pirate," he admitted. "But that doesn't help us, lad," he turned to Felix, "how well did _you_ know her. Or, do you know how well she knew Pan? Maybe that can help us both ways."

_Felix knew what he was doing was wrong, that he _**_could_**_ die for this. He would, if Pan found out. But he couldn't shake the feeling that what he was doing, what _**_they_**_ were doing was even worse, that no adolescence would be allowed to do on Neverland._

_He notice that his breathing grew shallow and he covered his mouth to muffle the sound._

_But then again, Tigerlily was just around his age, borderlining the age of a child and an adult, like most of The Lost Boys here. So, she'd be able to do things that some of them couldn't, Felix thought as he watched her back thru the keyhole. He was knelt in front of one of Peter's private tree houses, he had found. Felix had been out hunting wild boar when he heard sounds that led him to a wide tree trunk. When he saw that it had a keyhole, curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had bent down to look thru. What he saw almost made him drop the net of carcasses, but fear of death stopped him._

_The tree trunk had been enchanted, and inside it opened into a wide room similar to the size of The Boys' living quarters. But it wasn't the expanse of room inside the tree that made his jaw slack open. Felix had seemed to not be able to look away from Peter's face watching as he cried out silently. Felix couldn't see her face, but he knew that those silky, long locks of hair belong only to Tigerlily who was kneeled in front of Peter._

_Felix watched as Peter's head bobbed backwards and a low groan bubble from in his throat. The sound was unlike any he had heard his leader make and it both intrigued and frightened him. Tigerlily, on the other hand, he could tell, wasn't phased. Her small hand gripped his thigh and the other was hidden behind his backside. Felix could make out Peter's fingers dig into her hair, followed by the faint rocking of his hips as heavy pants seemed to preoccupy the leader._

_He faintly heard Peter hiss something about "not too much teeth." And if he listened hard enough, Felix would almost be able to make out lewd squelching noises. But before he could be sure, Peter's legs gave out and he collapsed on the bed behind him, breathless._

_Felix had looked away after that, more confused than shocked, not fully understanding this discovery despite his age. All the way back to camp, every thought and option rolled around in his head except the correct one. And the feeling in his gut questioned him the most—the sight of Tigerlily, he knew, that it was. He never liked how close she was with Pan._

"Only as well as the rest of us," Felix answered. "She's a _warrior_, _and_ a _princess_. And with Pan—_their_ business has always been _private_," Felix pressed each word. "And you'll never find her if she doesn't want you to. We've already tried."

Tinkerbell sighed. "He's already tied to a tree. Let's see if the others can squeeze some answers out of him."

Hook's brows shot up at the remark, stuttering out an agreement.

Felix laughed. It was one that belonged to a villain or a mentally twisted, not a boy. "That's right. You all are more likely too late anyway."

"What do you mean," Tinkerbell turned around, successfully masking her worry just in time.

His sick smile stretched wider. She realized that whenever Felix smiled like that, it looked terrible.

"By this time, Pan'll already be at Skull Rock. And his plan would almost be complete."

"We already know that he's headed to Skull Rock," Tinkerbell commented.

At the same time, and in a more confused tone, Hook asked, "what plan?"

Felix's smile grew. "To get the heart of the truest believer," was all he would say. That's also when a strong gust of green wind blew thru the camp.

"Oh no," Tink mumbled.

_The Lost Boys had been invited to the Piccaninny tribe for a celebration. All the boys were either dancing around the campfire or stuffing their faces with food that wasn't berries or over-cooked meat. Everyone was enjoying themselves._

_Felix looked around. Tigerlily had been called over by her father, who was busy speaking to her. And Peter was nowhere to be seen._

_Today was Tigerlily's mother's birthday. Or, it would have been, if she were still alive. Though she died from a disease before the tribe came to Neverland, she didn't believe in morning over the dead. In fact, she hated it, and wanted for everyone to celebrate life instead of cry on one's should-have-been days of birth. She had also pushed her daughter to try and see the light in everything._

_Felix watched as Tigerlily was dismissed by her father and turned to join the celebration._

_Felix stood from his seat just as she made her way to him._

_Tigerlily stopped, looking down at his outstretched hand to back up at his face. Her expressionless face didn't phase him—it was quite common in the presence of authority and guests._

_"Mind dancing, Princess?"_

_She stared from the scar on his face to his eyes, but then shook her head. She told him that she had to meet with a pair of elders in the hut across from the fire. Felix accepted it, telling her that he understood._

_He didn't need to turn around to know whose voice it had been who soon spoke, "may I have this dance, your majesty?" only to have her shake her head again, grab his wrist and pull him into the hut, with the elders, after her. Half an hour later, Peter Pan emerged from the hut, Tigerlily and himself marked with patterns and painted symbols on every inch of exposed skin, and went to sit on either side of the chief._

_No one noticed Felix had watched her, eyeing a design particularly low on her neck._

**Four weeks ahead, I thought that I should think some more**  
**I'm fucked in the head, and my mind is turning into a whore**  
**Five months go by, and I thought about letting her go**  
**She's crazy, though, and I guess she took control**  
**Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no no**

* * *

Wow. this took a completely different turn than what I originally planned. So now Henry has just given his heart, note the gust of wind.

Just a little Did You Know fact, the Piccaninny tribe is the actual name of the Native Americans of Neverland in the original story of _Peter Pan_. Not the Disney version.

May someone please tell me if this is terrible? What are some thoughts about this fic, like should it be changed or taken down or what? I am totally confused and begging here!


	7. Befuddle

**Lots of thanks goes to Millenia! C:**

**I forgot to add where the lyrics came from on the last couple chapters. Should I go back and add that?**

**Also, please let me know if this story is good or going too far. I won't know whether to continue updating unless I know. So REVIEW!**

* * *

Convincing Henry before he gave away his own heart had not worked, and Emma, Regina, and Neal had watched helplessly as their son killed himself by giving it to the one person who lied and wanted him dead. Now back at Pan's camp, desperate and broken, all parents were looking for anyway, for any answers, to stop the island's demon before he could do any more harm.

"So," Mary Margaret began, "Gold's in the box, and David can never leave the island..."

"Mary Margaret, that doesn't matter; I've already made peace with that," David tried to reassure her. "What matters is Henry." He turned to Regina, "how much time do we have?"

Regina was knelt beside Henry's still body. She hadn't looked away from the small boy since arriving to camp and it was obvious she was carrying the most pain. "Maybe an hour before the preservation spell wears off...?"

Neal sighed, "if Pan's airborne he could be anywhere on the island."

"An hour's much time," Hook spoke. "I suggest we get started looking."

All were silent as Regina marched over to Felix and grabbed him by the collar. All save for Emma, who grabbed her wrist before it plunged into the teen's chest. While she convinced Regina that violence wasn't their best card to play, David stepped aside near Hook.

"So where's Tinkerbell," he asked, the only one so far to notice the faerie's absence.

Hook shrugged. "Dunno. She flew off seconds before you all got here, pun intended," he added, knowing she had lost her wings.

David nodded. All watched as Emma persuaded Regina to wait to use magic.

"Did you both find out anything?"

Hook shuffled his feet. "Ah, no. Not really. Besides, it was really Tinkerbell who had squeezed out the few, yet, useless pieces of information about Pan from these troublemakers." He made a gesture to indicate The Lost Boys, and one stuck his tongue out at the pirate.

"Oh."

Both men watched in silence as Emma walked over to have her turn with The Boys.

"You know," David began, sounding much like a father coaxing his child, "any bit of information could ultimately help this all."

Hook nodded, agreeing.

"You've been to Neverland plenty of times, Hook. Could there have been any place he'd go or anything he'd might have said in the past...?"

Hook thought for a moment, honestly recalling all experiences here that he could and listening to Emma convince the Lost Boys to betray their leader. He finally sighed. "Nope, sorry. Nothing that I can remember."

_"I can see why you like your rum so much, pirate," Pan says slowly from his position on his back. He was lying on the floorboards of the Jolly Roger's deck, looking as disheveled as Hook can remember seeing him._

_It was night on Neverland, and Hook's crew had sent up camp somewhere near shore. He had left to retrieve his map, but when he emerged on the deck, he found that he had unexpected company. Hook had tucked away the map quickly, knowing that the children would swipe it as soon as their mischievous and greedy eyes set on it. He instead forced a smile and a bitter greeting._

_It had been that flying boy from earlier, he noticed, the one who had revealed the deadly dreamshade to his brother the first time Hook came to Neverland. Alongside him was a tribal-looking girl he had never seen before, who had a stare like a vulture._

_The boy had glanced up from leaning against the ship's rail and smirked, followed by a "hello, 'pirate' Jones."_

_Hook's run-ins with Pan since his brother's death had been neutral—not pleasant, yet not terrible._

_The girl, who was seated atop the rail had looked from him to Hook._

_"It's Captain now, to you, boy," Hook had answered._

_The boy, who he now knew as Peter Pan, had only smiled._

_Not much later, Hook had been convinced to open a case of rum while spilling tales about his few travels thru different realms. Pan, on the other hand, had not planned to become so intoxicated. It was altogether a different form to see Pan in such state—Hook's seen the boy cocky, devil-like and even a little helpful—but this, this was something completely new._

_The silent girl, who he had been told was the princess of the island, was also unexpected. Hook hadn't knew how long she was able to keep the emotionless façade going, and had now found her breaking point._

_"You know, I kinda miss these things back on the mainland." Pan held up his mug and accidentally spilled a bit on the floorboards._

_Hook took another sip from his cup, knowing to keep his guard up. He eyed the knives around both young's belts. "Why don't you ever go back then?"_

_For a moment, Peter Pan stared at him with such an evil look, Hook had froze. "Everyone has their reasons in life."_

_"Hypocrite," the girl had muttered, and she hadn't really known the meaning of the word then. Hook had held in his snicker._

_"Oh I see you're coming along with English just peachy, Tigerlily," Pan remarked, tongue loosened by rum. Hook and the princess watched him stretch his arms in a languid fashion._

_The girl, Tigerlily, Hook noticed, was in no better form than Pan. She hiccuped, her legs crossed as she sat atop one of his barrels. She was on her umpteenth bottle, yet she had enough of a mind to not have as much as Pan had._

_"There's dirt, I think, on your face," Hook pointed out, raising an eyebrow, and Peter grins back lazily._

_"Well, you like to see me all roughed up, now don't you Cap'n," he laughs. "Don't you think, Tigerlily?"_

_She spoke slowly, her tongue pronouncing almost every letter. "Roughed up is one word for it."_

_Hook notices she hasn't looked away from him. Her smirk was languid and warm, eyes vaguely unfocused. The expression was all too familiar to Hook, it was halfly of one who was drunk and halfly of one who was aroused._

_Hook chuckled. "I'm quite flattered, deary. But I'm much out of your age range."_

_Tigerlily crossed her knees._

_"By the way, pirate," Peter jumped in, completely oblivious, "how old are you? You look about...twenty-eight."_

_"Twenty-four," he corrected. "And what are you, seventeen..?"_

_Peter shrugged. "Dunno. Lost count."_

_"Almost one hundred." Tigerlily rested her chin in her hands, propped on her knees._

_Hook blinked, shocked._

_"So, I'm the one who is the eldest," she continued, countering Hook's previous comment._

_"H-how?" Hook turned to Peter, who was still on his back. When he didn't get an answer, he turned back to the girl, who then shocked him by having already moved to standing beside him._

_"You stay here." She ran a hand thru his ponytail, throughly fascinated by his coarse hair. Her voice flowed slowly and sweetly despite slurring slightly, it was hard to resist. "You can have anything you want," she mutters, "rum, forever youth—anything. Endlessly."_

_This got Peter's attention and he sat up. "Lily," he calls, sounding lost and confused._

_"Right, Peter?" Tigerlily ignores him._

_Yet, he presses further. "What are you doing?"_

_"Making a friend," she lies from lack of better words. "Now answer the question, Peter."_

_She glides her small fingers thru Hook's hair then down his cheek, and for the first time, he sees how beautiful she was as he looks up at her. For at such a young age, Hook figured she must be the heartthrob of her tribe. With a her long, silky hair and red skin, he could understand why she was named after a flower. But he also then saw the look in Peter Pan's eyes that were beyond shocked, and he looked almost...betrayed._

_"Neverland is full of sirens, I see," Hook remarks as he removes Tigerlily's fingers from his body._

_Both watch as Peter struggles to stand and then stumbles, cursing about rocking boats though it was docked on the shore. "I may be drunk," he pauses, criticism barely noticeable in his voice, "but I can tell I'm a little inequal here. Now, why do you think that is…?"_

_"Peter—- "_

_"Pan, it's not what you think—-" Hook interrupts but Peter cuts him off with a yell._

_"NO! You—you shut your grimy little mouth!" He extended a finger, eyes still slightly unfocused but angry as clear as day. Hook was torn between defending himself or letting Peter ride out his intoxicated anger. "This is all your fault!"_

_"What's my fault—-?!"_

_Without warning, Peter grabbed the air in his fist. He twists his wrist and suddenly the captain's airways closes, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Didn't I say. Be. Quiet." Pan snarled._

_Hook grabs at his neck as if he could physically pull away the magic that was chocking him. Glass shattered on the deck and alcohol spilled, but Hook's crew was too far to hear._

_Tigerlily remained standing, silent, observing it all. Her eyes flickered from Hook's reddening face to Peter's._

_Peter raised his same hand and Hook followed, floating into the air. Gagging and gasps were the only sound that filled the night. Hook kicked the air the more violently as he felt himself grow lightheaded. Peter was slowly squeezing his hand closed when Tigerlily finally spoke._

_"His life is useless."_

_Peter turns to her, not quite focused, still partly preoccupied with the strangling captain._

_Tigerlily's deadpan expression had returned. "There would be nothing gained from his death, and there would be dirty pirates left to infect Neverland if you do, Peter, with no way of getting back to their home."_

_"But it's _**_his_**_ fault," Peter pressed on a matter unknown. He then mumbled, more to himself, "he would have surely my age when…"_

_"No satisfaction, no gain," Tigerlily insisted. "Stopping being a damn fool, Pan."_

_Peter looked back and forth from Hook's blueing face to Tigerlily's blank stare. After some time, and luckily for Hook, he obeyed and dropped his arm. Hook followed with a loud THUD! to the floor._

_"I'd like to object about the 'dirty pirate' bit. I'm actually quite clean for your information." Hook slowly stood, rubbing his throat. His voice came back slowly._

_Peter stood for some time looking between the two before him. An empty look about his face now, though his eyes hid something far more...mischievous. _

_..Hook had mistaken it for cruelty then. _

_Without further word, Peter jumped overboard, startling Hook at first, until he began to fly away._

_Hook watched in silence. After a while, he broke the silence. "Thanks, though...for that," Hook spoke a little nervously._

_Tigerlily continued to stare after the wild path of pixie dust. "I didn't do it for you."_

_Hook raised a brow._

_"We have finally reached a time of peace on Neverland. There is no room for unnecessary deaths."_

_"...Oh, so you're against bloodshed?"_

_"Do not misunderstand. If you step foot on our territory, me and my people will not hesitate to skin you alive."_

_Hook swallowed. "Well, I see we've come to an understanding then.."_

**Your eyes are yet to be clear now**  
**('Cause you wouldn't take me home...) **  
**You were right and I wasn't listening**  
**(I never told you what you were missing...)**

* * *

Should I keep putting where the lyrics at the end come from? Because I forgot to do it the last time. Should I go back and add that? Please tell

Alerts only say so much: that people notice the story not whether the story has gone too far or not. Please send review to let me know what you think of this. :(


	8. Of Salvaging and Resurgence

**Sorry for the long wait. I hope this longer chapter makes up for it. School's gotten more critical and I might need to take time off for a while.**

**Also Thanks you xburner21 :)**

* * *

Regina folded her arms watching Emma kneel in front of the young boys. Her blood still boiled for her lost son. She was a mother, and like any mother, she was willing to do anything to get her son back, even if that meant squeezing the life out of one of those rats' hearts.

And she was about to do it, too. But it was Emma who pulled her away at the last moment from plunging her fist into Felix's chest. She had wanted to wipe his smug smile off of his face so badly.

The plan to Skull Rock had failed. Rumpelstiltskin had become imprisoned inside Pandora's Box, and by the time Neal, Emma and Regina made it inside, their effort was in vain and the three parents had watched Henry give his heart to the worst person.

Now back at Pan's camp, Regina concealed her grief just barely.

Emma was now trying to reason with the Lost Boys.

"Guys, listen to me...we are not going to hurt you." The blonde mother looked hopefully into the youngers' eyes, but found no such sympathy.

Wendy sat quietly on a boulder, hunched over her hands. She had been freed from her cage just minutes ago, and it felt odd to be on solid ground for so long. She rubbed her arms, hoping to hide the bruises and scars there.

The Boys had been moved from the trees and were now seated on log benches, gathered into a group on the ground. The flames in the center of camp flickered off their faces and in that moment, the adults realized that they weren't kids. They looked more like prisoners, victims of some hardship. Deep shadows and pockmarks decorated their faces; Emma could only recall that look in the eyes of war veterans and victims. A dozen pair of eyes, absent of any familiar shine or twinkle of a child's, were what looked up as Emma spoke.

She swallowed. "I know you're loyal to Pan, and I get that." She glanced at Felix before turning back to the remaining boys. Hook stood behind him after his failed attempt of attacking Mary Margaret. "But you are making a _terrible_ mistake."

Wendy had shivered at the mention of Pan's name. It didn't go unnoticed either.

Emma sighed. The Boys only gave her snarls in return, many turned their noses up and away from her direction.

"I thought I was never going to find my family—I was an orphan, like all of you. A Lost Girl." This earned several heads to turn her way. She remembered that the only children that came to the islands were either neglected, hated, or orphaned, all who had lost hope in themselves, in life, and ever finding a family. "And I was reminded today that I am not alone, that I have a lot of people that love me."

Mary Margaret smiled up at her husband.

"And I never thought that was going to happen. If that can happen to me, it can happen to you."

Somewhere on the island, Peter Pan sprinted thru the forest as fast as his feet could carry him. Any leaves and over hanging branches were torn from their places by his speed. He didn't breathe, didn't slow down until he came to his destination.

He jumped a large rock bordering a ravine and careened ahead three feet.

He barely broke a sweat, feeling his new magic coarse thru his veins.

"_Pan_ is the only family we need," Felix countered.

"No," Emma interrupted. She looked him straight in the eye. "Family doesn't do what he did. He lied to you and made you do terrible things—_he lied to Henry_," she pointed at the small, still body on the ground, "and convinced him to give up _his own heart_...!"

Wendy shuddered, regretting sneaking a look at the cage she had been imprisoned in for so long just a few feet away. Hook glanced from her then back to Emma.

A small boy, who went by the name of Cyril, spoke up timidly. "He did that to save the island—-"

Now all The Boys were looking at their captors, at this woman, in a new way, and the looks they gave ranged.

"-—No, to save himself...!"

Pan bolted up the latter to his quarters. It was a place he kept hidden with a cloaking spell, it's location unknown to everyone but himself, Tinkerbell, and _her_. He had no idea Baelfire had snuck off one night and discovered it.

It was a treehouse of some sort high in the branches of a tall Cyprus. A white sheet was the door to the room—he ripped it apart as he dashed inside. The room contained a small bed frame; a large, locked treasure chest and shelves of knickknack and trinkets and other things collected lined the walls; a hammock hung on one side of the room, abandoned for years; melted candles and an old lamp lied beside the bed. Despite dust had collected everywhere, the entire treehouse was empty and the room had remained tidy and clear, every spell book and stollen jewelry in its place.

He tore the room apart. Pan flung objects over his shoulder from inside the chest. He ripped the hammock from its hinges and pushed every book off the shelf. A few pearl trinkets shattered, diamonds and other jewels clattered to the floor, and oil spilled. He only had a certain amount of time until Henry's family came and found him, he only had a limited amount of time while his magic was fresh and strong.

Finally, he thought, finally, all those years ago would not be in vain.

He broke everything, all of his things, turning every bag over and pouring everything out, looking for pieces and ingredients and stuffing them in his pockets when they were found. He flipped the bed over and broke glass upon the floorboards.

He fled the tree just as quickly as he came—in a blur of green and messy hair.

"Don't listen to her." It was Felix this time who tried to voice reason. "Pan cares about all of us."

"No, he doesn't." Emma's voice grew stronger now, no longer a calming, mother-like tone. "_We_ care about you." She then stood, "and _we_ can _save you_. ...We can take you home with us—to our land."

The boy beside Cyril looked at him, hoping Cyril would voice what he could not. Cyril remained quiet—he was now having second thoughts about Neverland. Everyone knew Pan had his ways, but these adults did not know how _much_. Some of these boys have seen things that they should not; they've seen and done things they would regret forever, always repeating it in limbo, mentally.

"There is no reason to fear Pan anymore. Until he absorbs the power from Henry's heart, he _can_ be stopped," Emma coaxed.

"You just have to tell us where he is," Mary Margaret tilted her head and added softly.

Felix began standing. He was fixed on the two women and Mary Margaret unconsciously took a small step back. "Leave now while Pan still allows you to breathe!"

Hook clamped his...hook down on the boy's shoulder and brought him back down to sit.

"That's the only help you'll get."

Losing her patience with this situation and the boy, Emma turned to Felix. With eyes as cold as rock he sat on, she spoke slowly, "where. Is Pan?"

"Not. Telling." Felix mocked, mimicking her tone.

Pan emerged from the trees with heavy breaths. His chest rose and fell deeply as he looked out at the mouth of Echo Cave. It was nighttime on Neverland, and the moon seemed to give the overgrown vines and shrubbery an exceptionally luminant glow tonight. He teleported to the mouth of the cave, conjuring up a torch from imagination and walked inside without a further thought.

Emma's face fell. And once again, that feeling of defeat came over her—just like when she was arrested; just like when she almost lost Henry. When she _did_ lose Henry.

Cyril glanced to the boy at his right. He gave Cyril an encouraging nudge before he spoke. Cyril knew what he was thinking—Neverland had changed; it has gotten out of hand since they first came. "Can you really bring us home?"

"Shut your mouth!"

Felix's command stung and Cyril flinched.

Emma saw this and came to kneel in front of the young boy. "Yes, and with your help."

All eyes were on Cyril now. They all knew that their lives balanced on his decision to either speak or remain silent.

Cyril took in a deep breath before answering, "his thinking tree."

Felix screamed.

"Yes," the boy beside Cyril added, "his thinking tree."

"_Stop it, all of you!_" Felix bucked but Hook's hold stayed firm.

Emma didn't hide the smile that stretched her face. "What is that?"

"It's where he goes when he wants to be alone."

"You can find him there, it's not far," Cyril's fellow Lost Boy added. Both ignored Felix's demand to not trust Emma.

Pan emerged inside the makeshift shrine sooner than last time and immediately set to work on the spell. He pulled from his pockets a large feather, a stolen necklace, a totem, a bird's claw and a small bag of what looked like ashes he poured out. Pan pulled out other small things and set them aside to use them. He arranged the parts and sprinkled a green dust on a skeleton dressed in moccasins, then began chanting the spell.

Clouds darkened overhead and wind blew violently around Echo Cave. If anyone were to come close, they would have been thrown into a tree from the force.

"Can you tell us where that is?" Emma pleaded.

"Yeah. But you have to swear," Cyril looked to the boy beside him, "swear that you'll take us with you."

It was obvious that if these children stayed on Neverland after this betrayal, they were as good as dead.

Tears began welling in Emma's eyes. So close, they were so close to getting Henry back, so close for her baby boy to get up and walk again, alive.

"I promise. We're going home. All of us."

**...**

Brown eyes flickered open to the sight of a dimly lit room. The skeleton stood quickly—well, actually it was a girl now—and flinched at a sudden pain in her chest. She looked around, her long dark hair swishing this way and that. It must have caught her by alarm because she then grabbed at it incredulously, as if it were her first time ever noticing it. Her hands then went to work on the rest of her body, padding and tugging at her clothes, a look of shock on her face. Her clothes were dusty and ripped tremendously. Her nose crinkled—she smelt bad too.

Her eyes blinked rapidly in the little light then narrowed before settling at the boy knelt in front on her. Her lips moved but no words came from her mouth. Her throat felt hoarse and she coughed, swearing that she saw dust come from her lips.

Pan smiled up at her. "Hello Princess. How was your sleep?" He stood. "You were out like a light."

"P...Peter—-" He watched her sentence break as she grabbed her ribs, wincing. The pain was even more than she could fake.

His smile now gone (it was a façade anyway), he gathered her under his arm. He placed a hand on her ribs. She felt her chest tingle then the pain was gone. She was completely oblivious to the stab wound he just healed.

She coughed again. Before she could question why she was in a cave, Pan spoke: "you passed out out of nowhere and I carried you to Echo Cave. Here, that monster wouldn't be able to attack you while you slept."

She looked around, noting the many candles and flowers.

Pan toyed with one of the feathers braided into her hair. "I got bored," he answered her unspoken question.

Her brows furrowed. He watched her twist her toe into a small sand hill nearest her foot.

She looked straight ahead, trying to piece everything together as quiet enveloped the two. Pan knew that to her, she had only been asleep for an hour or two and not years, so he didn't know why she remained silent. He hoped that the spell hadn't changed or morphed her somehow. He couldn't deal with another feebleminded sheep—especially another begging girl.

She then broke the silence. "Get me food."

Her stomach growled.

Pan chuckled. She was back. "Of course, your majesty."

**Welcome to your life **  
**There's no turning back **  
**Even while we sleep **  
**We will find you**

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I don't know if the Lost Boy who spoke up was actually named Cyril. that was my doing.

Sorry, no flashbacks this time. I'll maybe have them in the next chapter, what do you think of that? I wanted to add a couple chapters that are only flashbacks explaining Neverland and everyone's relationship, is that ok? Wendy might even debut in the next chapter if you want

**REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW GUYS!**


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